


(Not) Tastefully

by jeonkook, Sugupaca



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6088756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeonkook/pseuds/jeonkook, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugupaca/pseuds/Sugupaca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karasuno has a cafe. Other people would probably rather they didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. nishinoya puts vegetable oil in his hair and asahi doesn't know what to do about it

**Author's Note:**

> a long restaurant/cafe au  
> each chapter will be about one or two characters mainly and they'll all be stupid af that's your warning  
> also just a note the chapters actually. get better. i swear they do   
> enjoy!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka "nishinoya no"

Filling the whole, albeit small cafe, a clatter could be heard from the kitchen, accompanied by a yell. A boy with particularly spiky hair jumped up in excitement as he narrated the imaginary volleyball game taking place over the sink.

“And an astounding return by Seijoh! What a game!” Mouth wide open in excitement, he directed the water at the wall, which in turn shot straight back at his face. Though his hair was dampened, his mood was not.

His coworker, Tsukishima, sighed and reminded him to do his job. The dish-washer quickly prodded his flattened hair and picked up a nearby dish, one with a good amount of leftover food on it. He picked up the spray nozzle and began to violently spray the plate down.

“And the dirt is wiped clear off the court! Hasta la vista, Shittyshima.” 

Tsukishima dropped his dish onto the counter and scowled his way over to the kitchen exit. “I’m taking my lunch break.”

Asahi, who had been quietly watching the croissants in the oven as he listened to Nishinoya spout his usual nonsense for the entire cafe to hear, straightened up from his crouched position and suddenly grew to a height of 185 centimeters.

“This early? Now who’s going to cook? Our cafe is understaffed as it is, and there aren’t many others who know the menu…” Realizing that this was his golden opportunity and most likely his only chance, Nishinoya jumped away from the dishes, his long hair scattering drops of water through the kitchen. He made his signature thumbs-up and shouted, all too loudly, “I’ve got your back!”

Though not entirely convinced of Nishinoya’s ability, Asahi sighed in reluctant agreement and took the croissants out of the oven, arranging them on a tray before carrying them to the display shelves at the front. Nishinoya grinned to himself and glanced at the order receipts hanging over the prep counter. 

“Alright! An omelette! Let’s do this!” Nishinoya said, voice full of conviction and hand already reaching into the refrigerator. He then remembered Asahi telling him to add vegetable oil on the pan before you cook eggs, so he rushed over to the pantry to snatch it. 

“You can count on me, Asahi,” He shouted proudly, not noticing the fridge door still hanging open, and jogged back to the stove across the room. On his way, he somehow managed to procure a pan from one of the cabinets lining the walls and he threw it onto the stovetop. Egg carton, check. Pan, check. Veggie oil bottle, check. Stove on- not check. He leaned forward and stared at the control panel.

Nishinoya frowned. He didn’t remember Asahi ever talking about this. Did he expect him to know how to operate a stove? Who even knew how to do that besides Asahi anyways? This situation called for some logical reasoning.

Right now, it was- Nishinoya checked his phone- 11:36. Today at 11:36, the weather outside was 29 degrees. Omelets couldn’t cook outside, so he supposed maybe four degrees hotter would do the trick. Four, because his favorite number was four. Nice. His fingers reached out to turn the knob when his plans were suddenly burned down to the ground- the stove controls… were different from the oven controls?

At this point, Nishinoya was completely and forever done with thinking about stoves (and was not about to think about circle-angle-math degrees to deal with this problem) so he took the knob in his fingers and turned it somewhere past the halfway mark.

Okay, great- stove, check. Next was opening the vegetable oil. The bottle stared challengingly back at him. Nishinoya narrowed his eyes.

“I’m not going to lose to you either,” he said, and began to unscrew the lid. Twenty seconds later, the cap wasn’t off, and he realized something was wrong. Annoyed, he put the bottle back onto the counter- and the cap came off, pulled out from the top. 

It wasn’t a screw-on lid, he realized, blinking from underneath his bangs, which were beginning to poke his eyes. Which reminded him… 

Only five minutes after Asahi had left, the room he came back to was not the same room as it had been before.   
A strangled sound left Asahi’s mouth and his eyes twitched in panic as he processed his new surroundings. Namely the four or five pans spilled out from an open cabinet onto the tiled floor, the refrigerator left wide open, the terrible sizzling spitting sounds coming from the stovetop, half of an eggshell on the counter (was the other half mixed in with the creation on the stove? Asahi could only pray it was not), and Nishinoya on the floor, who was currently taking vegetable oil off of the ground and plastering it into his hair.

Nishinoya’s head shot up and his eyes quickly found Asahi, frozen where he stood at the doorway.   
“Sorry I broke the vegetable oil! It just dropped. It sure was a fast beast, but don’t worry, I’m almost done cleaning up!” The boy grinned, one more handful of oil joining the other half of the bottle on his head.

Asahi wondered if it was normal to cry in this situation.

 

Shortly after Asahi stopped frantically attempting to fix the situation, Nishinoya took Tadashi’s place as waiter. However, despite being constantly reminded by Asahi to fix it, his hair was still a wet, oily mess. This obviously did not make a good impression to the customers, and he was, once again, moved. 

This time, he was moved to the cash register in order to free up Suga to help clean his mess in the kitchen. Once, back in the day, Suga was actually their manager- but Tanaka, who was also on cash register, couldn’t count for shit. The result was a rhythm in which Tanaka would press the buttons and Suga would come and count the change, in addition to working the other cash register.

Ideally neither Tanaka nor Nishinoya, who both have failing grades in math, should be working cash register. But this restaurant was by no means ideal, and that meant having to deal with a certain profit loss.

“Okay… let’s see… the order was $8.47, and they gave me a ten…” Tanaka looked at the cash register with a face of concentration and tried hard to do the math. However, trying hard does not guarantee success and the customer walked away with $4.44, which Nishinoya assured Tanaka was the right amount. 

Nishinoya was returned to dish-washing.


	2. hinata and kageyama understand volleyball, but not much else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nobody's really sure it was a good idea to put these two on drive-thru duty. but then again, it wasn't a good idea to let them work here in the first place either.

Hinata rubbed at his eyes blearily, trying to blink away the sleep as the next car approached the window. Kageyama gulped down the last of his seventh latte- which was mostly milk and caffeine- and scowled at the bright-haired boy.

“It’s only noon. Why are you so tired?” He said, turning to face the drink machine as Hinata took the order from the customer.

“I usually get to sneak in an hour of sleep in class on weekdays, so I’m actually tired on weekends, which sucks,” Hinata sniffed. “Anyways, you’re one to talk-”

“It’s not called sneaking if everyone can hear you snore, dumbass. Hell, Tsukishima says he can hear you with his headphones on.” Kageyama snorted.

Hinata visibly bristled at the remark. “I- you- Tsu- that’s not true! You guys are filthy liars!” 

“Don’t defend yourself, it’s weird when you do it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kageyama smirked. It’s terrifying, like usual.

“Well- uh, I-” Hinata blinked, flustered. “An-anyways, it’s only noon. How many lattes has that been? Seven cups? Of milk?”

“Once in seventh grade I drank fifteen before exams,” Kageyama muttered. Hinata would say he looked sentimental, but it was hard to tell.

“You’re like- you’re a milk monster!”

Kageyama’s face dulled. “Take their order, dumbass.”

Hinata stuck out his tongue and turned back to the window, returning to his energetic facade. How he managed to put on a cheery attitude constantly for the customers yet was “too tired” to make a cappuccino was a mystery to Kageyama.

“Hey hey hey!” the voice in the headset was so loud that Hinata jerked back, flinching.

“Oh. It’s Bokuto.” Kageyama turned and began to make his usual, a double-chocolate peppermint mocha topped with chocolate shavings and infused with Red Bull (although if it had a nutrition label the Red Bull would probably be the first one listed). Kageyama swears he’s going to get heart disease, but the guy never listens.

“You guys still working here?”

“Yeah… dentists are expensive….” Hinata said and frowned, tilting his head.

“I still can’t believe you managed to break the window  _ and _ knock out Daichi’s tooth! You guys are monsters!”

“You’re the monster, drinking something like this.” Kageyama muttered.

“Oh- actually, I’m going to take a nap when I get home, so no Red Bull today. Actually, can I have a decaf green tea? Akaashi says that’s the good stuff.”

Kageyama coughed hoarsely into the near-finished drink. “You owe us for this, damnit!”

“Hey hey hey, you made it before I ordered so it’s all you!” 

It took all his willpower to prevent Kageyama from crushing the drink into nothing but a pile of sugar in his hand.

As soon as Bokuto left, laughing heartily, Hinata took off his headset. “Hey, Kageya-”

“I don't want to hear another ‘hey’ for the rest of the day.”

“… oi, you wanna take orders now?” Hinata was really tired. It sure would be great if he could catch a break- yeah, that wouldn’t happen. Kageyama was too intimidating to talk directly to customers. And frankly speaking, the customers were too intimidating for Kageyama to talk to as well, but the guy would never admit that.

The next few customers passed by without a hitch, but as they came and went it felt like their shift would never end, and Hinata and Kageyama became even wearier. Hinata heard what seemed like a familiar voice, but his tired mind could not pinpoint where he had heard it from.

“I’ll take a medium order A.” Ukai! It was their volleyball coach Ukai. Hinata’s attitude immediately changed with hearing his voice.

“A-quick!” Hinata’s head whipped around to face Kageyama. “We’re giving him an A-quick!” 

Kageyama’s hand darted behind him and before Ukai’s sigh had completely left his mouth an empty cup was sailing through the air directly in front of Hinata’s stretching fingertips.

“That's not an Americano, dumbasses,” Coach Ukai deadpanned a few seconds after the cup struck the car window.

“Hinata, go pick up that cup.”

“Why should I? You’re the one who tossed it to me!”

“You said A-quick, my natural reflexes took over!” 

A small staredown took place before Hinata ripped off his headset and both of them raced out of the back room.

Ten seconds ticked by in silence. Ukai stared through the window into the empty room. 

“Hey! Where’s my caffeine?”

Sprinting through the cafe despite Suga’s pleas, shadows grew over their features as Kageyama and Hinata took on game faces. 

“I won’t lose-”

“-to you!”


	3. sometimes tsukishima likes to pretend he's a secret agent, but don't tell anyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what a loser, thinks tsukishima. leave me alone, kei sniffs.

6:58 AM. Thirty-two minutes before opening. Tsukishima is on time.

_ Unlock that door. Do not be seen! Agent Tsukki, do you copy?  _

Agent Tsukki, unlocking the door, copy.

_ Agent! Possible witness approaching from starboard side! Suspicious- trajectory contains a point matching your location. Get under cover! Agent Tsukki, do you copy? Agent- _

“Tsukki!” 

 

6:59 AM. There’s been a change of plan: greet Tadashi by the door and somehow unlock the door without being seen.

“Ah, hello. Yamaguchi.” Tsukishima adjusts his glasses with one hand and reaches towards the keyhole with his other. His hand is stealthily concealed behind his back.

_ Key is approaching lock. _

“I- um, hello?” Yamaguchi blinks, slightly confused. 

Good. Confusion is your best weapon.

_ The key has breached the surface! Objective almost cleared. _

“Uh, Tsukki-”

“Yes.”

Permission to turn key! Grant permission!  _ Permission granted. _

_ Once the entrance is open, be careful as you enter! Do you read? Be alert, Agent, at all- _

“Why the heck are you crossing your arm behind you? Are you- why are you unlocking the door behind your back?”

“Alert! I’ve been caught. Interrogation may ensue,” Tsukishima mutters under his breath.

“I’m going to go in now, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says slowly, stepping through the doorway and quickly disappearing.

Agent Tsukki sighs a breath of relief. Coast clear. 

He gives a determined nod.

7:02 AM. Mission can now be resumed.

_ Agent, your mission was to be the first employee in the cafe in order to get the Employee of the Month award, and to get a raise. _

Goddammit, Yamaguchi.

 

11:17 AM. Current mission: Survive until he takes his lunch break at exactly 12:10 PM. Main objective: Do not let Nishinoya offend him like yesterday. Dinosaurs are not lame. And lame was  _ his _ insult, and his insult only. 

11:19 AM. His first order of the day that was not something related to eggs.

11.22 AM. Nishinoya just came into the kitchen, loudly as usual. Tsukishima’s not sure when he left or why- maybe to the bathroom?- but he hadn’t heard or seen him go. Nishinoya might be more dangerous than he had first anticipated.

11:30 AM. Another egg order.

11:42 AM. The next person who orders eggs might have Tsukki’s Saliva of Disdain ™  on top of their sunny-side-up. I’m dangerous, Tsukishima thinks to himself (very dangerously) as he flips the omelette over (very dangerously) on the pan.

11:43 AM. The plate of eggs has left the kitchen. It feels like he can breathe again. He’s starting to hate chickens.

11:44 AM. It’s been 64 seconds and he definitely still hates chickens. Why does it feel like he did this yesterday?

11:46 AM. Yes. He definitely did this yesterday.

11:47 AM. And probably the week before that, actually. It’s starting to come back to him.

11:49 AM. Maybe he should take his time making this crepe (very dangerously), and see if he can stretch out the making time to ten minutes. How pissed would the customer be, on a scale of apatosaurus to allosaurus? 

11:52 AM. Tsukishima’s just too good that he can’t even make a crepe slowly, huh? Too good, huh. Three minutes, but you wanted to try for 10. That’s funny, I thought tall people were slower. 

Who the hell are you to talk? You’re just as tall as me, Kei.

Are you trying to start a fight? Pssh. Lame.

Wow, Kei. You did not just- lame.

Excuse you? You know what, I’m not wasting my time arguing with you anymore, Tsukishima.

Bye, Kei.

Bye, Tsukishima.

11:54 AM. Yes! 16 minutes until release! This is going to be like when they let the velociraptors out of the cages in that new Jurassic Park movie-

11:55 AM. Nishinoya won’t stop spraying the walls with the sink head. Only 15 minutes left, Tsukki. You can do this.

11:57 AM. Tsukishima tells Noya to do his job. The walls are probably cleaner than the plates at this point, he thinks to himself. You know what, Tsukki? You’re doing good. You’re doing- “Hasta la vista, Shittyshima.” 

Jesus Christ.

11:58 AM, twelve minutes before Tsukishima’s goal. “I’m taking my lunch break,” he grimaces and stalks, defeated, out of the kitchen. 

He will repeat the mission tomorrow. He was kind of excited for the Jurassic-Park-velociraptor style escape.


	4. kenma is beginning to regret befriending hinata, and also buying coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he also should have never let that love live game see the light of day

The door to the cafe jingled- or, at least the bells tied there (by Oikawa; they have little alien figures on them) did- but it went unheard under the commotion happening behind the counter.

“What the actual hell, Hinata? You know Daichi’s been out sick for a week, and the first thing you do when he comes back is run into him with a boiling hot pot of coffee in your hands?”

“Well, you weren’t much better anyways-”

“Hinata, he’s burning! Burning! Burned!”

“-you were punching him. I didn’t mean to spill the-”

The kitchen door was thrown open and a head poked out, long hair framing a pale and terrified face.

“I think he’s dead,” Asahi croaked feverishly. 

Suga screamed (sort of quietly, since they didn’t want the scary convenience store neighbor-kun complaining again) and immediately flew through the door, something about single mothers leaving his mouth faster than anyone could understand.

Hinata stood pouting, now left alone, next to the counter.

Then he heard something. It sounded like when his little sister tried to sneak past him and steal his  tamago kake gohan \- someone stepping carefully. Time for Super Sleuth Hinata, he yelled internally, and spun around without any warning.

The person froze where they stood and the blonde head slowly turned around. Hinata grinned widely and shadows began to cast across the other’s face.

“Kenma!” Hinata squealed. Like a teenaged girl, Kageyama would say. A dumbass teenaged girl.

“Hi Shouyou,” Kenma mumbled, and turned the rest of his body to face the bright-haired boy bouncing around tables to greet him. Escape was no longer an option.

“It’s been two whole weeks! How’ve you been? Do you want something to drink? The black tea again? Not sure if you want that today. Daichi’s just been- well, you heard what happened- so I don’t think the boba will be good this time. Hmm…” The boy scrunched up his face and put a finger on his chin.  
“Uhm, that’s okay. I’ll just-”

“Ooh! Actually, I know just what you want! Give me a second!” Hinata exclaimed, and raced back in the direction he came.

Kenma stayed where he was, slouching, at a loss for what to do.

Finally he decided that he kind of really wanted to see Shouyou after the long two weeks so he pulled out a chair and sat down at the table in the back corner.

Ennoshita was in the middle of taking an order when Hinata dashed into the room, knocking over cups and straws with his arms as they swept over the counters.

“Get out of the way, Yamayama!” Hinata shouted loudly, pulling the fridge door open with the might of a flock- make that several flocks- of full grown crows. He grabbed the cup which had been sitting in the fridge for a few hours and flew back (a little more cautiously now that he had an uncapped cup in his possession), ready to see Kenma with a little more energy in him.

“What are you doing with that? I coughed into it, dumbass!” 

Hinata turned quickly and thought for a moment. “Well, it’s been in the fridge for a couple of hours, so I think the milk-germs will have frozen off already.”

“The hell are milk-germs? Hinata-” Hinata didn’t have time to discuss the concept of milk-germs; he had to get this to Kenma before he left!

 

Kenma sat at his booth, an app game occupying his hands and mind.

“What’s so great about that game?” asked his friend Kuroo, who had been witnessing the entire earlier situation.

Kenma thought for a moment, his fingers still tapping away at his screen. “I guess it’s just fun to watch all these ‘perfect’s fly across the screen, not to mention the cute girls.”

“The music’s annoying as hell.”

“Sh-shut up! The songs are the fun part.”

“You like them, don’t you? So gay, bro. Let me play.”

Kenma was silent and leaned back into his game.

“It’s almost- almost over,” he said lowly, his aim getting continuously worse. ‘Nico!’ signaled the end of the song.

“There. Is that over? It’s over. Give it,” Kuroo said, leaning over as the scoreboards appeared on the screen. Kenma’s lip turned down in annoyance and he reluctantly passed the device over.

“It’s on expert mode-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I got this.” Kuroo grinned, then tapped on the same song. He looked at his idol group, missing a couple notes as he pointed to one. “She’s cute.”

“That’s Eli. Play the game.” 

Kuroo smirked.

“Of course you know her name _. _ Gay.”  

Kenma gave him a glare, but then backed down and slid farther back on his chair. He couldn’t argue with that.

The clear ring of bells signaled that Kuroo wasn’t doing too shabby, and Kenma began to peer over in curiosity. And then in worry.

“... combo 478? What- wait, no, give that back-”

“ _ It’s almost over, _ ” quoted Kuroo, mocking the annoyance Kenma threw around with his voice. Kenma frowned and looked away.

Kuroo’s teasing was stopped short by a loud voice that somehow appeared next to them.

“Oh, you have that game too! What’s your id?” asked the bubbly worker.

“This is Kenma’s game,” Kuroo responded, the scoreboard appearing on the screen, with a banner showing “High Score” underneath the statistics. Kenma stared in disbelief.

“Wow! You’re super good!”

Kuroo smirked and handed the phone back to Kenma. “What’s up, Hinata?”

“I brought your drink, Kenma,” Hinata handed the cup to Kenma, receiving a confused look in return. Hinata beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

“I don’t get why you’re so excited...” Kenma muttered and brought the cup up to his nose, which promptly crinkled up in disgust. “This smells like…”  
“Heaven?”

“No-”  
“A really nice drink?”  
“Like-”

“Pure bliss?”  
“No, like pure sugar.”  
“Oh.” Hinata blinked. “Well, I swear it’s good. Bokuto has it almost every day.”

“Yeah, well, owls consume entire animal bodies, skeleton and all… they also eat skunks,” Kenma said, still looking suspiciously at the contents of the offering in front of him. Hinata stared blankly at him, not understanding what owls had to do with anything. Kenma sighed and pulled the drink closer to him. 

“... I’ll try it…”

Before he could act on it, Kuroo snatched the concoction from between his hands and took a quick gulp. “Wow!” he whistled. “That really wakes you up. Bokuto has nice taste. Who made this?”

Hinata’s eyes glanced away to the side. “Cougheyam- I mean, Kageyama.” Kenma watched blankly as Kuroo slid the drink back to him.

“...I’m not drinking this anymore…”

“It doesn’t have milk-germs, I swear!” Hinata cut in frantically, waving his arms around in small circles. “No milk-germs, I can assure you!”

Kuroo snorted and Kenma’s doubt shot up like Kuroo’s score in the game he was playing earlier. Kenma sat in silence, but there was an increasingly large cloud of conflicted panic surrounding him. Kuroo looked at the other boy and doubled over in laughter.

“I guess I’ll take it then,” Kuroo shrugged, once again taking a drink. Hinata put on a face of disappointment, but quickly cheered up when Kenma asked for a black tea with grass jelly and an apple fritter. 

“To go,” he added, though he knew Shouyou wouldn’t let him leave so soon.

“I’m not letting you leave so soon,” chirped Hinata, echoing his thoughts exactly.

Kenma couldn’t stop a slight smile from appearing on his mouth as the small Karasuno boy returned to the kitchen.

“Look at that. It’s like a little ray of heaven.” Kuroo said around the lid of his drink, peering in wonderment at his smile. “I bet there’s an angel out there with tears in her eyes.” Kenma sniffed and pulled his phone out again.

“I’m not going to let you keep the high score.”

Kuroo laughed. “You know, you never gave Hinata your id.”

At that, Kenma stopped and automatically looked up towards the kitchen.

“You’re so gay, bro- augh, don’t kick me!”

 

Kenma sipped his tea contentedly as the chair beside him was finally quiet; Kuroo was sinking his teeth into the rest of Kenma’s apple fritter, having ignored the blonde’s initial protesting. Taking a pen from his backpack, he pulled a napkin out of the tabletop container before uncapping the pen with his teeth. He began to scrawl a string of numbers on the paper, looking back and forth from his screen to the writing. Kuroo poked his shoulder with a slightly sticky finger.

“Let’s go,” he insisted around a mouthful of stolen pastry. “I want to download that app, but I left my phone in the car.”

Kenma scowled slightly at that but stood up and slipped his phone into his pocket. 

“Fine. I just finished what I was doing anyways,” he said and started moving towards the counter. Kuroo happily jumped up to his feet and followed him as he went to pay for the extra drink.

“I’m glad you came today, Kenma!” Hinata grinned, tapping numbers into the cash register. “And, uh, you too, Kuroo, I gue-”

“Don’t finish that. Just make me feel loved, is that so hard?” Kuroo complained. Beside him Kenma smirked and muttered something about favorites, and then dodged Kuroo’s attacking foot.

“You missed, loser,” Kenma said under his breath, still smirking. Kuroo smiled suddenly and brought his hands up to cup his face. 

“My little kitty is growing some backbone,” he said, wiping mock tears from under his eyes. The smirk immediately disappeared from Kenma’s lips and he turned away from Kuroo.

“Anyways, thanks for the drink, Shouyou,” Kuroo snickered, tall behind Kenma’s shoulder. Hinata nodded cheerfully as he sorted the money into the cash register’s drawer.

“That’s what we’re here for,” he pointed out and handed the receipt over the counter to Kenma, who took it and slipped something into the tip jar.

“Come tomorrow, we can play during my lunch break!” Hinata called after them as they left. As the alien bells jingled, signaling the closing door, he remembered the slip that had been placed into the tip jar. Reaching his hand into the opening, he fished it out and peered at the writing on the napkin.   
He laughed aloud as he realized they had both done the same thing.

 

Walking out of the cafe, Kuroo asked him how much he paid for the drinks (not because he was going to pay him back- he probably wanted to brag to Bokuto how much he could mooch off of him). Maybe he should be more like Akaashi and leave Kuroo at places, forcing him to pay for his own food. Maybe that would backfire because he’s pretty sure Kuroo never brings money with him whenever Kenma sees him- wait.

“Four dollars and 49 cents,” he answered, glancing at the receipt in his hand.

“Wait, what? For two drinks and a pastry? Woah, bro, that’s dirt cheap. Let’s actually come here more often.”

Kenma sighed. Hinata had given him ridiculous discounts, one of them being “newspaper coupon”, another for “today’s horoscope”, and the last for “inconveniences”. It  _ was _ pretty inconvenient of him to force that drink onto them- but he supposed it was okay if Kuroo ended up liking it.

“Hmm? What’s this?” Kuroo pulled the receipt close to his face. Kenma looked up and stood on his tiptoes, trying to see what Kuroo was talking about.

Kuroo smirked and lowered the paper back to reasonable airspace (the altitude Kenma lived in. Others are just too tall). Kenma reached a hand out to snatch it back.

“Could it be that he gave you his id, too?”

Kenma successfully grabbed the paper from his hands and studied the messy handwriting, another slight smile crossing his face. Kuroo tilted his head, intrigued. 

“And another one bites the dust.”

“So angels are  _ dying _ now?”


	5. tadashi relies too much on tsukishima, but tsukishima is a secret agent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tsukki gets hella excited because "oh god do u hear that guys it's the dinosaur train"

Tadashi hummed an unfamiliar tune as he sauntered across the restaurant floor, in his arms some cleaning supplies and his phone. He set his sights on a table to his right, which was considerably messy. There were crumbs from some kind of pastry scattered across the table top and some whip cream and chocolate shavings smattered against the seat.

“Honestly, how does someone make this much of a mess in the first place?” 

He set his phone down on the cleaner part of the seat and took the cleaning solution in his hand. Spray, spray, spray, he thought to himself. The words made a catchy tune in his head. He got so caught up in the tune that he forgot about the loose cap on the spray bottle, and threw it down haphazardly onto the seat. The cap, as he should have expected, came off, and cleaning solution began to spill out. A little squeak left Tadashi’s mouth as he looked down and realized the solution had reached his phone and was now practically submerging it in a waterfall, cleaner cascading over the edges of the chair and onto the floor.

“Ah- now I’m going to lose allowance for six months!” The fact that he had a job now in addition to his allowance never crossed his mind, and he frantically began to wipe up the seat.

“That’s a thorough job you’re doing there,” came a familiar, deep voice. Tadashi quickly turned around, a thoroughly wet rag soaking his hand. 

“Oh, hi Daichi.” He hoped that he hadn’t seen his careless mistake. At least being taller than the captain made him seem slightly less intimidating. Of course, the upperclassmen are always going about how terrifying he is when he gets angry, so height probably wouldn’t help to calm his nerves. It was only three centimeters, anyways. 

“Since you seem to have nothing better to do, I was wondering if you could put some music on? I would, but Hinata managed to spill hot coffee on me and wipe out my phone in one go…”

“What? He spilled hot coffee on you? Now we owe you for the phone, too!” 

Daichi laughed. “It’s okay, it was only Hinata. I’ll make sure he pays his dues.” 

Tadashi sighed in relief and returned to the topic.

“Sure, I guess I can put on some music. I think my taste in music matches the aesthetic of this place well enough.” Tadashi finished, forgetting for a moment that he had just spilled cleaning solution on his phone.

“Great! Thanks a lot!” 

Tadashi gave a slight nod and stared ahead, suddenly unable to make eye contact with Daichi. A problem had presented itself. How was he supposed to play music when his phone was currently wiped cleaner that Hinata’s vocabulary?

 

“Oi, Tsukki, can I borrow your phone?”

1:36 PM. An outsider is making an attempt to heist mission materials. Defend your motives; do not reveal your intentions. Do not state your intentions.

“You cannot steal my phone  _ or _ my intentions,” Tsukishima announced firmly.

1:36 PM, still. Opponent has been equalized.

“Okay, Tsukki,” Tadashi agreed, and took the blonde’s phone as he quickly retreated.

1:37 PM. Opponent has surrendered. Agent Tsukki has claimed victory and a promotion.

Tsukishima nodded stoically and continued cooking his omelette.

1:38 PM. Sent the omelette out of the kitchen. Who even orders omelettes at 1:38 PM? One… one Haiba Lev. Who even names their child something like that? 

Tadashi spent twenty minutes trying to find the cafe stereo system before realizing there was no such thing and that Daichi had meant the average-sized speaker box on the back of the counter. He scurried over to the tabletop, holding the phone in front of him as he went. The phone had a charger cable jack and a headphones jack- he wasn’t sure which was which, but he guessed he was about to find out.

Standing in front of the counter, he reached out and pushed in the power button. A little green light blinked on so Tadashi knew he had done at least one thing right. He leaned over and began to try to find the connector to the speaker. Was it going to be a cable? Or would he have to attach the phone to the speaker itself? Dealing with technology was hard. Maybe he can go back and ask Tsu-

No. He had already gone to Tsukki for help three times today. His new personal goal was to be self-reliant and independent, so the limit he set was three strikes a day, and he wasn’t about to break his own rule. Maybe he should have saved that other one that he had used to ask which sink handle controlled the hot water in the bathroom.

Finally, his searching hands closed around a thin cable and he pulled it out from where it was wedged against the wall. A small sense of accomplishment bloomed in Tadashi’s chest and dismissed all of the negative thoughts that had just been creeping into his mind. 

Which was good, because Tadashi’s mind was a temple. A temple of his body. His body was a temple. Temples, lots of things were temples.

Fortunately, it was easy enough to match up the headphones jack with the cable connector and the phone was now hooked up to the portable speaker.

At this moment, two things happened simultaneously.

The first: Tadashi’s eyes widened as he realized that Tsukishima’s phone had a password, and he had given up on cracking that said password a month ago after the third time Tsukishima had caught him in the act. What was he going to do? Asking would break his rule. Temples flashed across his mind.

The second: the speaker began to emit a low static-like noise as the phone automatically began to play a track, having detected the new connection to the device. 

Eyes comically wide, Tadashi slowly turned the phone over with shaky hands and stared at the bright screen. The phone was playing a song-

_ Once upon a time, there was a mom- _

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, what was happening, he was so dead-

_ Her name was Mrs. Pteranodon- _

“I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done,” Tadashi recited frantically, lucky that he had a temple for times like this. “Please, forgive me, and restore the balance in my life-”

 

2:08 PM. What was this? What is that he hears? It must be an illusion, like when you see an oasis in deserts. It couldn’t be, but was that Special Agent (he’s loving the super special title that came with the promotion- so special) Tsukki’s jam playing outside?

2:09 PM. He poked his head outside of the kitchen door and immediately the sound flowed around and surrounded his head. He could feel it pillowing his ears, soft and familiar.

_ One by one, the kids popped free! Baby pteranodons, one, two, three. _

Yes, it really was. That was his song that was playing. His anthem.

 

Tadashi had slid down the wall and now was a mess on the floor, phone in one hand and the other over his heart as he quivered where he was crumpled. Sugawara shot out of a back room and hurtled across the cafe. Kageyama’s head poked out from the drive-thru room, his eyes dark and a grimace on his face.

“Buddy is a dumbass T-rex poser,” he growled and disappeared back behind the wall.

“What was that?” Hinata’s voice could be heard asking faintly from the window, to no reply.

Tanaka began to move his hips- only slightly at first, but then gradually gaining more momentum. Lev, who had stationed himself at the counter while he waited for his late breakfast, watched on in horror as Tanaka began to sing along (though it was more like violent mumbling, since Tanaka was not good at English).

Tadashi’s despair only grew at the sight of Tsukishima coming out the kitchen, now fast approaching his location. Dangit, why did he have to have such long legs?

2:11 PM. It appears I had assumed my victory falsely, and our security has in fact been infiltrated. The threatening sound is coming from none other than my own phone, yet I cannot help but gather to the sound like a moth to a light. They must be using hypnosis. The world has always been a game of cat and mouse but I now have fallen to be the lowly mouse. This is a game that I cannot win- this, this may be my last play. I guess it truly is hasta la vista, Shittyshima.

Tadashi started with a yelp as something hit him in the side. Looking up, he was met with miles and miles of leg. What is this? Was this cursed dinosaur song doing something to his physical form? 

The song was stopped with a jolt and Tadashi scuffled backwards to the wall, hands flattening behind him. The tall figure visibly relaxed and a sigh was heard. Slowly, Tadashi rose, sliding up the wall, head still looking upwards at the other person’s face.

“That was really, excruciatingly terrible,” the guy declared. “Almost as bad as Yaku’s artistic abilities.”

“Shut the hell up, Lev,” a much shorter (to Tadashi’s relief. He hasn’t shrank. Thank goodness. God bless the Lord) boy, probably Yaku, trotted up to Lev’s side.

“But you play piano like a blessing sent straight from heaven,” Lev grinned, knocking their arms together playfully. Yaku snorted but still a small smirk crept onto his face. Seeing this, Lev’s cheeky smile grew bigger and earned him a swift kick to the gut.

“O-oh, um,” Tadashi stammered, timidly watching the scene in front of him. “Thank you, I guess- I mean, thank you for sure, but I didn’t know what I was doing, so I’m sorry, thank you-”

His rambling was stopped by an arm being thrown around his shoulders. He looked up and saw Sugawara’s smiling face by his and gulped. There were too many people suddenly around him. This wasn’t the way he should treat his temple.

“Hey, did I hear something about playing piano?” Suga jumped in at the opportunity, smiling innocently. His eyes darted to the side and took in the tall grey-haired head definitely lower to the floor than it had been seconds ago as Lev folded over tearfully in pain.  

“Sorry about him,” Yaku apologized sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “And yes, I play. But ‘from heaven’ is an exaggeration.”

“Oh well, hardly anyone other than, say, Daichi, could be considered a blessing from heaven, so in that sense I’m sure you’re fine,” Suga laughed. “Anyways, my aunt has an upright piano, so if I bring it in…”

“Would I play here for you?”

“Yeah! Precisely. I’m sure if we talk to Daichi we can think of what hours or days and the pay- wait, what am I saying,  _ I’m _ the manager, so. We can talk to me.”

“I- yeah, I’ll think about that. Can I come in and talk to you about that tomorrow then?”

“Definitely! That’ll be perfect!” Suga beamed, and put both hands on Tadashi’s shoulders. “Well then, we’ll be off! I need to send Yamaguchi off somewhere because handling the music just doesn’t seem to be his strong suit. Enjoy your food!” he chimed and steered Tadashi out of the room.

 

“I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine.” Sugawara smiled, a smile that could reassure a moose with liver flukes and brain worms. “Just get back to cleaning tables.”

“Actually, I spilled the cleaning solution everywhere… could I do something else?”

 


End file.
